The Voyage of Oblivion
by ThetaWolfe
Summary: It was their last plan, completely stupid and reckless, worthy of any Gryffindor. Diving off of the astronomy tower after blowing it up, Harry was prepared to die. Too bad for him Snape wasn't. A forbidden spell and accidental magic. Wait, who's a dragon?
1. Chapter 1

***Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and ideas….and the plot bunnies in the corner. Please don't sue, I'm a poor college student that has no life and way too many video games.***

"_Reality is just a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs." – Robin Williams_

**Of Prologues and Bad Plans**

The wind swept carelessly around the spires and towers of the castle, blowing shutters open and ripping shingles off the roof. Snape's robes billowed harshly around him as he threw curse after curse at the being in front of him. Before him stood the most feared Wizard in history, Lord Voldemort. Behind him the Magical World's last hope, their savior, Harry Potter, kneeled, gasping harshly.

Voldemort blocked his spells almost effortlessly before sending his own back at the younger wizard. The Potions Professor stumbled back several more steps as his shield started to fail around him. He dared not dodge, not with Potter behind him. He could feel the boy, just barely sixteen, as he laid a hand on his leg to steady him. Another curse crashed into his shield, nearly causing him to trip over the boy.

The Dark Lord smiled maliciously at them as he sent another barrage of spells and hexes. This time the Professor did not stumble, in fact his shield seemed to strengthen. His calf felt unnaturally warm where Potter's hand was still gripping it. Magic, Potter was feeding him magic, giving him strength, giving them _time_. Voldemort took a step closer, red eyes filling with triumph. Just a little closer now and it would all be over.

Below them, they could hear Death Eaters running up the tower to the roof. They had to keep stopping to break through the wards, but they were making alarming progress; soon they would overtake the tower. Hopefully their luck would hold out.

A _Reducto_ sent Snape shuffling back in the strain to hold the shield. Potter gasped in pain behind him, but didn't move. He had nowhere to move to, for behind the Gryffindor was a 300 foot drop to the rocky coast below. This would be their last stand, neither of them would be getting out of this alive, but by Merlin they were taking that madman with them.

"Pr-professor," Potter asked between pain filled gasps. He had broken a rib, maybe two, and his left arm hung uselessly at his side.

Snape wiped at the trail of blood dripping into his eye as he pushed more power into the shield, willing it to hold. "Not yet, Potter," he nearly shouted as he bared his teeth in frustration. They couldn't hold out much longer.

Below them, they could see the fight continuing on the grounds of Hogwarts. The Dark Lord's forces outnumbered theirs, but the Light was still holding its own. An explosion sounded from behind Voldemort as the last ward fell. Any second now and the Death Eaters would be upon them.

"Professor?" Potter's voice shook as he grabbed Snape's robes and pulled himself up even as his legs nearly gave out beneath him.

"Not_ yet_!" The boy tried to shuffle out from behind him, but an arm pushed him back quickly.

Voldemort advanced further, laughing at them in glee. "Severusss, I am mossst disssappointed in you," he hissed, stepping even closer. "Give me the boy and I will kill you quickly."

Snape could feel Potter gripping the back of his robes even harder, twisting the fabric in his fists, as if to keep him there, unsure of where the Professor's loyalties would lie. It wasn't much of an offer, either way he would die, but Voldemort was known for keeping his prisoners alive for weeks, even months, before he killed them. Snape's left hand reached back and latched onto the boy's elbow, his grip hard enough to bruise, but it calmed Potter's erratic breathing down some.

He moved further back, forcing the boy to cling to him or risk falling. Black eyes tracked the Dark Lord as he advanced further, behind him the Death Eaters swarmed up to the roof of the tower, wands ready. "_Professor?_" Potter whispered, desperate.

"Your anssswer, Sseverusss," Voldemort prompted. The Dark Lord was only several meters away now.

Snape stared directly into his crimson eyes and sneered. "I think I'll take my chance with the boy," he replied before he whipped around, and grabbed their savior. "NOW!"

An incantation left the pale lips before he wrapped his arms around the thin torso and dived off of the astronomy tower. An explosion lit up the night sky just as gravity took them, fiend fire consuming the tower. The Weasley twins finest work by far. Nothing could survive it, not even the Dark Lord.

Fire licked at his heels, even as the plummeted head first towards the broken jagged rocks. Potter clung to him tightly and Severus could feel the heat of his magic as it tried to save them. But there was nothing they could do, nothing anybody could do. The Golden Boy's wand was burnt to a crisp hours before, and the Potion Professor lost his during the explosion.

The wind whipped past them at incredible speed; even still he could hear the boy screaming as the ground became closer and closer. Severus pitied the boy, to kill the Dark Lord and then fall to his death seemed unfair and cruel. He had promised Lily that he would protect her son, promised her he would keep him safe, no matter what. But there was nothing he could do…unless?

Severus had sacrificed everything for the war, for the Light, for Harry. What was one more? Words left his lips as magic began to build. It wasn't a spell, it was a prayer. "Dear Merlin let this please work."

And then agony.

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Harry choked on his scream as his ribs shifted painfully in a very incorrect way. Tears stung his eyes even as the wind dried them instantly. He never thought that the cliché of your life flashing before your eyes was true, but now, as he fell to his death, he remembered what had brought them to this point.

After Sirius death, it all went to hell. Voldemort was now officially back, as announced to the public, and he was ruthlessly building his army. The Ministry of Magic had spent the last decade in his absence putting restriction after restriction on what they classified as 'dangerous' or 'dark' creatures. In the end, they only had the Dark Lord to turn to, and turn they did.

Barely a month into the summer hols the Ministry declared the Wizard World in Red Alert. No one was to leave their homes unless absolutely necessary, everyone was tagged and tracked. Wands were examined and tracers were applied. Everyone was in suspicion of being a Death Eater. It was no wonder that even Witches and Wizards revolted.

Diagon Alley fell first, under a hail of fire and chaos. Saint Mungo's was next, followed quickly by the Ministry itself. No one was safe and panic overtook the populace. They flocked to the only safe locations, the schools. Durmstang was not one of them, since it was naturally a dark school, but Beauxbatons was flooded with refugees. Well, those who could get out of Great Britain at least.

Those who weren't fortunate enough fled to Hogwarts. They numbered in the hundreds. Tensions were high as everyone was checked and rechecked for allegiances. Veritaserum was handed out like candy, and anyone who had even a miniscule talent in brewing potions was recruited.

It was there, in the dungeons that a bond began to form, between Professor and Student. Severus Snape and Harry Potter barely tolerated each other on the best of days, but that was before food shortages made them hungry, sleep deprivation made them tired, and the daily death count was announced before each dinner. Their toleration turned to begrudging respect as they stood before simmering cauldrons in the early hours of the morning for the tenth day in a row without rest. Respect turned into acceptance when months passed by and no end was in sight. From there grew a friendship.

It was mid-September when the siege upon Hogwarts began. It lasted for two months, nineteen days, and four hours before Death Eaters ripped through the last of the wards and swarmed the Castle. Harry had been separated from his friends mere minutes into the fight. An overpowered hex destroyed his wand, and if it hadn't been for Snape, he would have died right then and there.

Their plan had been reckless at best, but it was the best they could come up with. Rigging the astronomy tower to explode and releasing a dormant fiend fire spell had been their backup plan. Plan Z…their last option. Harry had hoped it wouldn't have come to that, and he prayed that his friends would survive the battle. As they plummeted through the night sky, Harry wondered what his funeral would be like. At least they took that bastard with them.

Harry gripped the Professor's robes tighter and buried his face into them. He didn't want to see the quickly approaching rocks…except it wasn't fabric he felt against his cheeks, and his hands were no longer fisted into cloth. He felt what could be leather, broken into sequential shapes. The grip around him vanished, and for a moment he was free falling alone.

Snapping his eyes open, he only saw black, and then there was a painful grip around his torso, crushing his bruised and broken ribs. He heard the flap of wings, the wind seeming to quiet as something pulled him up. He gasped painfully, vision fading rapidly as his heart pounded in his ears and his magic soared through his veins.

And then he saw nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

***Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and ideas….and the plot bunnies in the corner. Please don't sue, I'm a poor college student that has no life and way too many video games.***  
_"You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it." – Robin Williams_

**Of Swan Dives and Explanations**

Harry eased into consciousness slowly. The first thing that caught his attention was the loud call of birds and the gentle lapping of water hitting shore. He felt grass underneath him, the ground soft and a little mushy. The air was cold and the morning dew was soaking through his torn clothes, causing him to shiver. An almost hot gust of air surrounded him every dozen or so seconds, before the cold started to seep in.

He lay there for several minutes, basking in the continuous heat, even as his nerve endings started to awaken. Like his memory, the pain started slowly coming back to him. First it was the difficulty with breathing, and then his arm started to throb while his side began to escalate from a dull ache to stabbing agony.

Groaning in pain, Harry tried to open his eyes. At first everything was blurry and he thought he had lost his glasses, but no, they were there, perched on his nose rather precariously. The grass beneath his cheek came sharply into focus, and then he saw trees. Rolling painfully on his back, Harry tried to look around without getting up.

The sky was a murky blue as dawn settled over the land. Several clouds billowed in what he assumed was a northerly direction. To his right lay the lake. He gazed at it fondly for a moment, before he turned his head towards Hogwarts. He needed to see the castle, make sure it was still there.

Except it wasn't.

Gasping in disbelief and pain, the Boy-Who-Lived forced himself to stand as he took in the large clearing. Arm wrapping around his torso to support his ribs, he gazed before him in disbelief. There was no Hogwarts, no castle, and from the looks of it there never had been. There was no rubble, no stone, no foundation, nothing to ever hint that there had once been a majestic feat in architecture. It was just gone.

Legs shaking in shock and weakness, he collapsed to his knees and choked down a sob. Had it truly been for nothing? He would allow himself to wallow in his self-pity for a little while longer, then he would get up and figure out what went wrong. As he forced down the agony of emotion trying to well up, he was distracted as he once again was surrounded by hot air, chasing away the morning chill.

It surrounded him in great puffs, and now that he thought about it, there was a hollow rumbling sound coming from behind him. It almost sounded like…breathing? No, it sounded exactly like breathing. Something was breathing behind him, something _very_ large.

Vibrant green eyes shifted to their corners as his head turned ever so slowly to look behind him. He saw…black? Whatever it was, it was black and shiny, curved in a triangular way, the tip touched the ground and the top was above his 5'7" frame. It looked almost like a beak. As he gazed at the top, eyes cataloging where the beak ended and met what looked remarkably like black hide. Confusion swept over him before movement caught his eye. Two black holes flexed briefly before he was once again surrounded in that all-consuming heat.

Harry stared blankly for several seconds before his brain caught up with his observations. Those holes looked like nostrils…no, they _were_ nostrils. Then that means…

He shifted a little to the side, to look around what he concluded was a beak, and then proceeded to scream like a prepubescent girl. Not his proudest moment…no.

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Unlike Harry, Snape did not have the pleasure of waking up slowly. No, he was pulled into consciousness quite abruptly as what sounded like a banshee shrieking loudly next to his sensitive ears. Black eyes snapping open to find the threat, Severus lunged himself into a standing position. Well that was the plan, at least.

What really happened was he found himself tangled as his limbs contorted in strange positions, and then he proceeded to fall flat onto his face as he couldn't balance properly. Snape groaned in annoyance and pain as he tried once again to stand. And the blasted banshee kept shrieking.

After several failed attempts to get his limbs to function properly, Severus settled with crouching instead…and found the position oddly comfortable. The screaming choked off as the screamer ran out of air. Blessed silence surrounded the clearing as he gazed around him, trying to find the threat. He found nothing, just a forest and a lake. There was nothing around him that could produce such an atrocious noise.

Several seconds passed, and then another noise caught his attention. It was between a scream and a whine and grated on every one of his nerves. The noise wasn't coming from around him; it was coming from under him.

Shifting back, Snape craned his neck to look at the puny creature who continued to annoy him with its presence and found…Potter? The Potion Master gazed at said boy in confusion. When had he gotten so small? Perhaps the boy drank something he wasn't supposed to. The Weasley twins might have had something to do with it.

His eye began to twitch in annoyance as the boy persisted in making that awful sound. "Cease that Merlin forsaken noise this instant, Potter!" He snapped, voice coming out far deeper than he intended. In fact, that had almost sounded like a growl.

He got the desired reaction though. The Potter child abruptly ended his banshee impersonation, but now he was staring at him as if he had seen a ghost. Huffing in annoyance, Snape turned his attention elsewhere. Perhaps the battle had fried what little brain cells the Gryffindor had left.

The lake was calm, no sign of the squid under its surface. Shifting to look at the surrounding forest, Snape's gazed at in thought. Something was wrong with the trees. They seemed…small. That was strange.

Another noise pulled his attention away from the abnormally small trees and back to the child he had pledged to protect. "Pr-prof-professor?" Potter questioned, gazing at him in wonder. "That y-you?"

Snape sneered at him. How eloquent. "Of course it's me, you idiot boy, who do you think it is?"

Potter still gazed up at him, way up. Slowly thoughts started to turn in his head as he thought about it. His claws dug into the dirt as a question began to form…wait, claws? Snapping his head down, Severus looked on in disbelief as his took in his _hands_.

His weight rested on two claws, and from that there was a wing, a definite reptilian wing attached to what was supposed to be his arm. Oh sweet Merlin, Potter wasn't small, Snape was huge.

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"Of course it's me, you idiot boy, who do you think it is?"

The sneered question was almost comforting, the voice familiar even though it was deeper than he remembered. It was definitely Hogwarts resident dungeon bat, even altered though it was, his voice still had that liquid lilt to it.

Before him was his Potions Professor and tentative friend, but also before him stood the largest Dragon he had ever seen. Harry shuffled a little to the side to take in what was once his teacher. He was massive, at least seventy feet nose to tail…minimum. A collection of bronze horns ranging from three feet to five feet in length covered not only his head and spine, but his entire back, getting progressively smaller until they ended around his sides.

He watched as the large head turned this way and that, trying to see what he was seeing. It would have been funny, the way his Professor was acting…if, you know, he hadn't been turned into a _Dragon_! A feeling was bubbling up in the back of his mind, it felt like :_disbelief_: and the beginning of :_hysteria_:.

The feelings weren't his.

"Professor?" Harry asked, confused. Even as the word left his lips, he wished desperately that they hadn't as the large head turned and solid onyx eyes latched onto him. He gulped in fear. It was like staring into a void, there was no visible pupil or iris, just a solid black. If he looked close enough, Harry reckoned he could see his reflection.

The Potion Master blinked, before he shook his head. One of the wings lifted, the two _fingers_, for lack of a better word, curved around his muzzle. If Snape was human, that gesture would be him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Harry had seen the action enough to recognize it for what it was.

"This isn't happening," Snape mumbled, but his voice was far from quiet. "This isn't happening. I'm dreaming…this has to be a dream. A very strange, very _unreal_, not happening dream."

Potter continued to gaze on in fascination, even as he moved to get a better look. An upturned root halted his progress as he tripped over it. A rib slid strangely and scrapped against another at the jarring movement. Gasping in pain, he kneeled on the damp forest floor, trying to catch his breath.

"I don't think a dream is supposed to hurt this much," he commented, and the ramblings of his teacher abruptly ended.

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The gasped words drew Severus out of his monologue. Turning his gaze to his student, he watched as Potter tried to stand, right arm wrapped around his ribs while the other hung loosely at an awkward angle.

"Stop moving this instant!" Snape nearly shouted. The boy froze, crouched strangely as his legs tried to support him. :_Fear_: flashed in the back of his mind, and Snape's eyes narrowed upon the small figure. Potter's eyes were dilated, and his breath was coming out quicker with each passing second. That feeling of fear wasn't _his_, it was the boy's.

Onyx eyes narrowing in disbelief, he watched as the boy worked himself into a panic. Snape almost sighed, his problem could wait. Clearly the boy needed him more. "Stop," he stated softer this time, shifting so he could lie gingerly on his side to appear less intimidating. "You're going to aggravate your injuries further."

The child's eyes widened comically as his legs gave out and his breathing accelerated. His body started to tremble as what was no doubt shock, started to settle in. Potter was working himself into a panic attack and Snape needed something to distract him, before he punctured a lung on what were clearly broken ribs. "Look at me!" He snapped, forcing the boy's eyes to look directly into his own.

He moved closer, wanting to comfort but not sure how in this form. It was almost like crawling, using all four limbs to move, but _not_ crawling at the same time. It felt weird. Pulling his mind away from such trivial matters at the moment, he settled several meters from the boy. "Potter…Harry! Look at me. I need you to breathe slowly, in and out. Come on boy, you can do it, in and out. In and out."

Slowly, Potter's breathing evened out as he followed his monotonous instructions. He stretched and arm/wing out and rested it so the elbow was next to the child and it curved around him. It was the closest he would get to a hug, even in his human form. As the boy calmed, he seemed to sag in weariness, and then he felt heat on his arm/wing, as Potter shifted so he was lying against it. The boy gazed at him in wonder as he gazed back in what he hoped conveyed annoyance.

He felt :_comfort_, _safe_, _secure_: in the back of his mind. Snape blinked slowly, before he turned his head away in thought. The heat on his arm-wing, okay it was definitely a wing, was distracting. The boy's magic danced along his…hide? It was trying to heal the injuries caused during the battle.

"Professor," Potter asked, his too green eyes blinking owlishly. He inclined his now massive head to show he was listening before the boy continued. "What happened?"

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Snape was quiet for so long that Harry feared he wouldn't answer. Just as his eyes started to droop in fatigue, the Professor's voice penetrated the fog. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Harry attempted to straighten as he tried to collect his memories. The pain in his ribs prematurely ended such action, and he found himself putting even more weight on the wing surrounding him. The _arm_, for lack of a better word, was thicker than he was wide, and was surprisingly comfortable. The unnatural heat eased the pain from his ribs and took the edge off of his broken arm.

"_Falling,_" Harry whispered suddenly, the memory of falling was the last he had before he woke up here. He felt :_fear, sadness, desperation, hope_: and the sixteen year old shook his head to rid himself of the _not_ _his_ feelings.

Snape nodded his head slowly, watching the boy carefully for any signs of anxiety or panic, but the boy remained calm, if a little confused. "That is correct, Mr. Potter. We had both taken a swan dive off of the astronomy tower and were plummeting to our death."

Harry gazed into the large onyx eyes of his Professor as his memory slowly came back to him. He remembered the battle, the fighting, the screaming. Running up the tower, Voldemort's mocking voice not far behind. Kneeling behind his Professor in exhaustion as the Dark Lord forced them closer and closer to the edge. An offer made, refused, arm wrapped around his stomach, an explosion, and then falling.

"But," Harry started, confused. He gazed around the clearing, trying to put the pieces together.

"I used forbidden ancient magic with the knowledge of animagi to turn myself into a Dragon," Snape supplied, voice low and calm.

Harry blinked at him slowly, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Oh," he muttered, seemingly lost for words. A comforting silence surrounded them as they each gathered their thoughts. "But then can't you, you know…" he gestured weakly with his good arm, "Turn back?"

Snape seemed to cringe at the words, sneer no longer present on his draconic face. "Did you ever wonder why an animagus never took the form of a magical creature, Pot—Harry?"

Harry felt his face scrunch up in thought as he picked randomly at the grass. "Not really, no," he mumbled.

The Professor sighed, hot air blowing over the teen and ruffling his already messy hair. "It's impossible to turn into a magical creature–"

"But you did," Harry butted in; cheeks turning crimson as his Professor sneered at him and gave an annoyed huff. Even so, he could feel :_exasperation, fondness, amusement_:.

"As I was saying," Snape drawled, making Harry's blush even more prominent. "It is impossible to turn into a magical creature and then turn _back_."

The words struck a chord in him as he started to realize the situation they found themselves in. The consequences of what had happened hit him and disbelief was drowned out by fear. "Yo-you're…" he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

"Stuck like this," Snape supplied quietly, stretching out the rest of his body, tail thumping as it hit the ground, and laying his head upon the grass.

"But," Harry started, voice barely above a whisper. Even so Snape could hear him quite easily. "Fo-for how long?"

The now Dragon snorted loudly and Harry felt :_annoyance, fondness_:. "Forever, Mr. Potter," he sighed, the words coming out in an odd rumble. "I'm afraid I will live the rest of my life as a Dragon, and then die as one."

Harry's emotions kept shifting so quickly that not even he was sure how he felt about that. He felt fear, desperation, sadness, anxious, anger, resentment. He settled on the feeling he was most familiar with: anger. "But that's not fair!"

Snape shifted once more before he seemed to find a comfortable position. His eyes closed slowly, and his breathing evened out as he let the fatigue over take him. "Life hardly ever is."

They sat in silence for a long time. Both lost in their own thoughts as the sun slowly migrated across the sky. Sleep overtook Harry first, upper body propped upon the wing. Snape soon followed.


	3. Chapter 3

***Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and ideas….and the plot bunnies in the corner. Please don't sue, I'm a poor college student that has no life and way too many video games.***

"_What's right is what's left if you do everything else wrong." – Robin Williams_

**Of Time Travel and Dimension Hopping**

Harry awoke to the familiar and surprisingly pleasant experience of hot air surrounding him. Still propped upon the wing, he shifted slightly and glanced around. It was darker now, nearing sunset, and nothing in the glade had changed except the shadows. Yawning, he turned his head and found himself only inches away from the overly large dragon head.

His Professor was still soundly asleep, breathing deeply as his side expanded. Harry watched him in awe as he took in the form. The breed was definitely Hungarian Horntail, a dragon breed he was not soon to forget, but Snape was much larger than the one he had faced during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He was nearly twice the length.

Examining the length of the dragon limbs, Harry concluded that if they were both to stand, he would maybe be halfway to the elbow joint, possibly less. Tilting his head allowed him to see the entirety of the wing and the hind legs. He had two talons, as opposed to the common one and six spines on the wing all ending in sharp points. His hind feet on the other hand had four toes and an opposable joint like a thumb almost. Further up the leg was another talon, similar to a dewclaw.

His scales were black, but not at the same time. When the light hit them just so, they appeared almost dark green, blue, and purple. It looked like oil on water, the colors shifting and dancing every time he moved. The tail had the common bronze horns going down it, only to end in a slightly curved bone point surrounded by spikes. Harry briefly remembered what Charlie had told Hagrid when the half giant had taken him to see the first challenge. "_I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front._"

Pulling his mind back into the present, he continued in his observations. Merlin knew when he would get the chance again, because Snape would never allow it. Allowing himself several more minutes to just look, he turned his attention to himself. His clothes were ripped, torn, and bloody. His shirt was completely ruined, and his pants were no better.

Sighing, Harry briefly entertained transfiguring an outfit when he remembered that he no longer had a wand. Pulling away from the heat, Harry sat up straight to assess his wounds instead of lamenting on his destroyed companion. His ribs were still tender, but were healing nicely. His left arm was still broken, but his magic had at least aligned the bones and began to fuse them. It would be another week before it was completely healed, but at least now it didn't hurt so much.

During his self-assessment, Harry's right hand had been stroking the scaled appendage. The feel of it drew his attention away from his wounds and he was enthralled as fingers brushed over scales. They looked hard, were strong enough to resist most magic and probably even a bullet, but they felt soft almost. Like worn leather.

He let his fingers trail along the muscle of the arm before he turned to the wing itself. It was much thinner, and black, though not scaled like the rest of the body. He could feel the membrane underneath the thin stretch of skin, and the magic and heat emanating from the dragon left his hand tingling.

Harry felt :_confusion, annoyance, fondness, irritation_: just as a gust of hot air surrounded him. Turning slowly, he found himself face to nose with a very awake Dragon who was staring at him intently. He emitted a noise he would refuse till his dying day was a squeal, but at least this time he didn't scream.

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Severus awoke to a strange feeling. It felt like something was stroking his arm, but different. Opening an obsidian eye slowly, he found the cause of his confusion and annoyance. The Brat-Who-Lived was _petting_ his wing. Snape narrowed his eyes at the whelp, but didn't move to stop him. It felt oddly…nice.

The boy was still in the same position when he fell asleep, but now his fingers were dancing along his scales, with an enraptured and fascinated expression. Severus let him continue for a while longer, letting the teenager loose himself and forget about the situation that they were in, but then his hand shifted to the sensitive membrane of the wing and he discovered, quite uncomfortably, that it _tickled_.

He huffed a gust of air at the boy, and watched amused as the boy turned towards him and emitted the strangest sound. He felt :_mortification, embarrassment_: and a little :_fear_:. Shaking his head to rid himself of the feelings, Severus turned his attention elsewhere. Last night he had thought upon what _exactly_ had transpired to put them in this situation, and the only logical conclusion he came up with was not one he liked.

As if sensing his dark mood, the boy interrupted his train of thought. "Professor Snape-"

"Don't," he interrupted, sneering. Foul mood in place he continued, "I'm not your Professor…not anymore." That he could no longer be anyone's Professor was left unsaid, but heard loud and clear.

Potter cleared his throat uncertainly before he tried again. "Sna-Severus?" The timid voice asked, :_uncertainty, want, understanding, sorrow_:,not quite sure how to address him anymore. Snape begrudgingly allowed it. "What is…what's going on?"

It was a good question. Even as he said it, Severus could feel the _not his_ feelings. "Something very strange, Potter…Harry," he paused, turning to look at the boy. Harry was staring at him with rapt attention, and it made him shift uncomfortably. "I believe your magic reacted strangely with mine. We've…" trailing off, Severus searched for the proper word. "_Bonded_."

"I don't…what kind of _bond_?"

The way it was enunciated almost made it sound dirty. Snape allowed himself to chuckle lightly, but it came out more like a trill. "A familiar bond, Harry."

"You mean…" He could see the boy's adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "You're my _familiar_?"

There was a long uncomfortable pause, and silence filled the glade. The lay quietly for several minutes before :_panic, pity, unwant, despair_: and Snape sneered at the boy. "Don't look so disgusted, Potter," venom dripping from his tone.

"It's not…I didn't mean," :_panic, despair, pain, sorrow_:. "It's just, I meant—"

"Eloquent as always," Snape said softer this time. He could understand the boy's feelings, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less. He braced himself for rejection, preparing for the worst. To reject a familiar was unthinkable. The pain it would cause…it would be better to let him die.

A small hand stroking along his cheek drew his attention back. Opening onyx eyes he was unaware he had closed, Snape noticed that Potter was standing next to him, hand reaching up to dance along his scales under his eye. He let it calm him.

"To you, I meant," Potter whispered, emerald green eyes tearing up. "It's not fair to you."

Snape blinked slowly as understanding came to him. Potter wasn't upset because _he_ was the boy's bonded, the boy was upset at the thought of servitude that followed. The child was angry _for_ him.

Severus chuckled lightly, making that same strange trilling noise. "You foolish child," he mumbled, before he reared his head up and stood to his full height. He felt :_indignation, inadequacy_:, probably directed at the height difference. "You forget, I may be your Dragon," voice drawling as he glared at the boy. "But you are _my_ wizard!"

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Harry stumbled slightly as the words washed over him. It all made sense now, the feelings that weren't his, this need to be closer to the wizard turned Dragon. When Snape first told him of the bond, he felt like it was a trap. For so long he felt like a prisoner, food rationed, bars on his windows, lock on his doors. He didn't want to subject that to anyone.

He didn't want to _own_ anybody. But the way that the Dragon stated that sentence made it very clear that Severus also owned him.

He smiled lightly as the other's feelings overcame him. He felt :_possessiveness, want, acceptance, ownership, protective_:. He had never before felt anything like it before, and he wondered if was what it felt like to have a parent. Basking in the feelings, he allowed himself to relax until :_annoyance, fondness, impatience_: overrode them.

Gazing up at _his_ Dragon, Harry smiled softly at him. Snape looked away, sneering lightly, but even so it didn't stop the boy from being happy. "So what now?"

"Now," Snape mumbled, turning his back to the lake. "We walk."

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The once human found it both annoying and amusing about how slow he had to move so the boy could keep up. It was awkward at first, getting his wings to cooperate in order to walk without tangling them. After a while the motion became fluid as Severus let instinct take over and stopped trying to analyze it. "Are we going to Hogsmeade? Because I can use a pair of new clothes."

The seemingly innocent question forced him to pause as he gazed at the teenager sadly. "No, we are going to Dufftown, it should be a half a day's walk," when it seemed like the Gryffindor was going to grate on his nerves with all of his pent up questions, Snape decided to cut him off. "There is no Hogsmeade, there never was."

"I don't understand," Harry panted as he jogged lightly to keep up with the Dragon's much larger stride. "Where are we then?"  
"We haven't moved," the sneer was not present in his voice, and he tried to keep it that way. The news was already going to be hard to hear, no need to make it worse. "Behind us is the lake, over there was what you knew as the Forbidden Forest, and to your left was where Hogwarts was."

"But," Harry mumbled, :_confusion_:.

"This isn't our home," he continued softly, not daring to look at the boy. "Yes this is Scotland, and yes, this is still the UK. What it isn't though is home. Here there isn't a Hogwarts, and I suspect there never was. Look at the forest, it isn't Dark, and I can sense no other magical creatures. Whatever our Magic did, it took us somewhere _safe_…I don't think this is our reality anymore Harry, and probably not even the same time."

There was a long pause, it seemed to stretch for hours, but lasted only minutes. "But, that means…" :_despair, confusion, sorrow, pain_:.

Severus nodded his head solemnly as he stopped to gaze at the boy. "We are truly alone."


End file.
